Whole Lotta Love
by Take Me Home Tonight
Summary: PWP Destiel  Dean/Cas
1. Intro

Anger had been the primary emotion only a few moments ago, and it was taking Dean a few minutes to catch up with his body, which had obviously reacted much differently than he expected. Cas had been gone for far too long, he assumed kicking ass and taking names upstairs, but that knowledge hadn't made it any better that he was gone, or that he wasn't answering when Sam called. Dean could never know what was happening up there, and he couldn't know if his friend was even still alive. The chaos on earth had to mean something big was going down with the angels.

And all of that made sense. It was logical, to worry about your friend when there was supernatural anarchy in heaven.

What did not make sense to Dean, however, was the visceral reaction he was currently having to the angel's return. In his recollection, he wasn't the sort who went about kissing his male friends... And he was pretty sure that was the kind of thing he would recollect doing. Yet here he was, pinning the angel to the side of the Impala, pressing their mouths together as though Castiel was a particularly fine little dish from a bar. But it was different. It was Cas. He was heavier, sharp, solid, and apparently _his_ body was a little ahead of his thought process too. He was kissing back aggressively. Something was keeping Dean from reacting in the way he expected himself to react.

His expectations had nothing to do with warm lips against his, and his fingers going to places that they really shouldn't. His expectations did not include the heat of Cas' body against the back of his hand as he tucked deft fingers into the band of the angel's trousers and pulled their hips closer, he thought however that his other hand might be behaving itself better, and frantically working to rectify whatever the hell was happening. Instead he found his hand on the side of Castiel's face, his thumb resting along the vessel's cheekbone, perhaps a little harder than he should, his fingers curled into Cas' hair and pressed into the back of his neck.

The sound Castiel made reinforced the fact that he was not one of Dean's usual girls.

It was something between a growl and a grunt and the way he shoved into the kiss that Dean had started almost knocked their teeth together, but for some reason this sharp reminder of what exactly they were doing did not bring either of the men to the realization that they were making out like a high school couple against a car from the 60s and could easily have been in a scene from an alternative modern version of Grease.


	2. Chapter 2

Even when Cas pulled away to take a shaky breath, the haze that kept both of them from tugging at their jackets and looking at their shoes awkwardly before burying their hands deep in their own pockets, failed to lift.

"Where the Hell have you been, asshole?" Dean growled the question at the angel, general confusion making him sound more angry than concerned. He didn't move away from Cas though, and the other man remained pressed to the side of the Impala.

Much to Cas' own surprise he chose not to answer Dean's question. Instead he barreled headlong into another kiss. Regaining his breath in time to cover Dean's next words with his own hunger. The awkward virginal angel was replaced by the ageless power of an angel who was tired of fighting. His own astonishment over Dean kissing him upon his appearance a few moments ago was already fading into a sort of comfortable fatigue. It was easy, he had to admit, to just cling to Dean's control and sort of fall tiredly into his friend's embrace.

When Dean didn't get an answer it took him only a second to decide to react to the physical contact his angel friend was making than the silence. This entire situation was spiraling endlessly into more and more confusing territory and the hunter made another snap decision not to think about the whys and the hows of this whole thing anymore. He'd come to the conclusion that nothing he thought or felt about what he and Castiel were currently getting up to, was going to even begin to slow the momentum they were gaining.

Instead he found his hands betraying him once again, as one of them found its way to the crotch of Cas' pants and proceeded to rub upwards until his fingers were trailing up the angel's stomach. This motion effectively dragged Castiel's shirt out of his carefully belted pants.

Dean had done this with enough girls to have certain deft movements down to a science. He'd simply never thought he'd be making attempts to employ them on his angel friend. But there had to be a first time for everything, although he could safely say that even with everything he'd seen in his relatively short life; had he been on the outside looking in on this, he wouldn't believe it was happening. But Cas' warm breath against his throat as the angel trailed kisses down to his collarbones, tugging plaintively on the hem of his t-shirt to gain access to more skin, snapped him back to the here and now; where this was definitely happening.

A pleased gasp escaped Dean when the angel's tongue discovered the warm salty tired taste of his neck. Castiel turned pleading blue eyes on Dean. He had no idea what was happening either. But at the moment, he wasn't going to argue.

Their hips remained close, from Dean's earlier tugging at the angel's waistline, and it was becoming obvious exactly what that begging sort of look he was getting from Cas was about. The hunter licked his lips and moved away from the angel just long enough to open the door to the backseat, and shove his friend in. Castiel didn't put up any resistance and found himself on his back against the worn leather.

The Impala smelled like the Winchesters. As well it should, they did tend to live in it. It smelled like salt, and sleep and leather and jeans. There was a hint of whiskey, or bourbon around the edges and the whole thing was underscored by metal and gunpowder and it was disturbingly comforting to Cas.

Dean followed Castiel in, easily placing himself so that he had one knee between the angel's legs and one between Cas and the edge of the seat. He was in a sort of dejavu version of familiar territory here. He had certainly done the deed with an angel to two in this back seat, although only one other one had been an actual angel, and all of them to this point had been women. Their mouths met again, hungrily (And at this point unquestioning of what the hell was going on).


	3. Chapter 3

It was at this point that Dean regained the presence of mind to reach back and slam the door shut behind them. He kneeled over Castiel, a small voice in the back of his head continued chanting fervently that this entire thing was wrong. He couldn't FUCK Cas. But he wanted to. Some part of him that was much bigger than the tiny voice telling him to stop, to think about what he was going, WANTED this.

Castiel was tugging at his jacket, the usually reserved and even naive angel was more desperate to undress Dean than comply with his own almost-buried misgivings. He swallowed thickly and continued to push the older Winchester brother's leather jacket off of his shoulders. His persistence was rewarded with the sight of Dean shrugging off his battered armor. This was not at all logical. Cas could almost visualize an angel and a demon arguing on his shoulders. But only almost, they would ruin the moment that was currently happening. He chewed on his lips as the hunter deftly pulled his t-shirt over his head.

But what Cas hadn't been anticipating a moment before, was that Dean ditching his clothes would be inevitably followed by the shedding of his own garments. He was caught off balance a second by Dean's fingers quickly trailing down his chest and leaving his shirt neatly unbuttoned in their wake. Castiel's breath caught in his lungs as the other man tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening that as well.

Lips were licked and fingers explored of their own accord.

There was something too like a movie about it, like the men were watching from behind their own eyes, but not really present in the moment. Castiel battled back, into himself, back into the there and now. He bit his lip and looked up at Dean, it seemed at this moment that he should continue the earlier undressing before the whole affair trailed off so much that the small voices yelling in the backs of both men's heads got control of the situation and left them staring awkwardly and trying to figure out what they were doing here in the back seat of the Impala.

His coat and shirt and tie all joined Dean's clothes on the floor of the car, and with nothing to stop him, the hunter's mouth met the angel's warm skin. Dean's mind flooded back to his first encounters with the angel, to when he'd tried to explain to Sammy that angels were just dicks with wings. To before he'd realized that Cas wasn't just one of his monsters with the slight twist of holding enough power to require him to negotiate. Confusion was translating into anger in Dean, and he wasn't having this Cas' way. If he was going to fuck his angel friend, they weren't going to get girly about it. He shoved Castiel back down into the seat and their mouths met in a harsh clash.

Dean found himself leaving warm kisses down Cas' neck and chest and running his tongue along the hollows of his friend's hipbones.

Castiel found himself experiencing bodily sensations he had never imagined. His vessel's body never seemed to exhaust it's repertoire of feelings, and these in particular, he wanted to savor, whoever he assumed that ht was supposed to be taking some sort of active role in this encounter, and as a result the angel found himself following the commands of this body. Long fingers met with the button of Dean's jeans, and from there his zipper was short work. Castiel wasn't sure he had ever felt inclined to unfasten the pants of another man, but he found that things were working out best when he simply acted without thinking.


End file.
